


Keys

by StAnni



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: They are done.  And it’s not a take-back sort of thing either.  It’s a last-rites-six-feet-under sort of thing





	Keys

When Eames comes by the Friday to return the key Arthur makes sure to leave his file spread on the table – he’s fine, he’s working, he’ll soon be moving on. Eames – because Eames is nothing if not curious – glances at the table. “Is that the Rudyard job?” 

Arthur doesn’t say anything and takes the key from the table where he dropped it.  
Eames glances at him, then at the papers again, moving them slightly to see “I hope you know what you’re doing. Mark Jamieson is a maniac.” 

Arthur hands him the key to the storage facility “I moved everything in there, you can take whatever you want.” Eames nods a thanks, and then, eyes cold, he nods towards the painting in the foyer “What about my paintings?”

It’s cruel. Eames knows that the painting that Eames gave Arthur for their first anniversary is his most prized possession. “Your paintings, the ones that are yours, are in there.” He indicates to the key in Eames’ hand. “That one doesn’t belong to you.” He says firmly.

Eames leans closer and clicks on the table with the key, looking at the plans again – clearly already having abandoned going after the painting. “How many levels?” 

Arthur moves the papers away. It was a crappy idea.

“How is Jeremy?” Arthur asks, coolly and Eames leans up and away from the papers – palms out slightly as if to say, okay, okay, I get it.  
But Arthur does, now, want to know so he waits for an answer. Eames, rubbing his neck gives Arthur a tired look “You really want to pick a fight now? We’re done, love.” 

They are done. And it’s not a take-back sort of thing either. It’s a last-rites-six-feet-under sort of thing.  
It hurts like hell to hear him say it.

Eames’, to his unbelievably diminished credit, does, off Arthur’s micro-reaction (because it was certainly micro, tiny, almost non-existent) shakes his head, offering an immediate apology “Sorry, love, I didn’t..I didn’t mean it that way.”

Arthur wants to tell him not to call him “love” but he also wants to hear Eames call Jeremy “love” so, there’s battles you pick and battles you don’t.

“Four levels” Arthur answers finally and Eames nods and looks away – rubbing his chin. He’s worried, maybe even terrified. It is ridiculous but it is endearing. “It’s nothing complicated so it should be fine.” Arthur offers and Eames nods, eyes wide, considering. “Who is your chemist?” Eames wants to know and Arthur shrugs, because everything is standardized these days “Some guy from Column. He’s good, he’s fine.”

Eames looks at the plans again and his fingers tap absently at the side of the table. It is a gesture that Arthur knows very well. 

“You got everything you need?” Arthur asks, his throat tightening.

Eames looks at him, then backs off, moving away from the table “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for this.” He motions with the key and Arthur nods.

As Eames walks to the door he stops at his painting, giving it a glance before looking back at Arthur. “Do me a favour and just give me a call when the job is done, just…that all went well.” He shake his head to himself, as an explanation “Mark Jamieson…he’s a maniac.” 

Arthur breathes and nods, shrugging “Sure.”

“Alright. Take care, love”

And he leaves.


End file.
